


I Was Made For Lovin' You

by Yikes_Writes



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Deaf Character, Deaf Steve Harrington, Fluff, Hurt Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Post-Season/Series 02, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yikes_Writes/pseuds/Yikes_Writes
Summary: Joyce scribbled something on his pad."They told us everything. I’m so sorry, Honey."And Steve started crying. Started sobbing, because Joyce’s hugs were warm but her soft voice was gone.-Steve faces some complications after the tunnels, and loses his hearing. Billy helps.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 478





	I Was Made For Lovin' You

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked:  
> Hi! I love your blog and i check daily for updates because your fics/drabbles make my days! I wanted to request (if you're up to it) something with steve going deaf after the concussion in s2? Thank you so much! I hope you feel better soon and have a great day❤
> 
> -
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr [@yikesharringrove](https://yikesharringrove.tumblr.com/)!

Billy doesn’t know _what_ happened when the kids drugged him and left him there.

All he knows is that he was startled awake by the sounds of Maxine driving his _own car_ and the kids fucking _screaming_.

Something about Harrington being _bitten_?

And they dragged Steve out of his car, and he was _bloody_ , and _unconscious_ , and had a _big_ gash in the back of his head.

Billy helped them bring him to the couch, using Steve’s jacket to pillow his head, trying to staunch the bleeding from the wound there.

“Why the _fuck_ didn’t you take him to the _hospital_?”

Everyone was quiet as Steve groaned, shifting slightly.

His eyes fluttered open.

They were hazy and unfocused, looking slowly around the room.

“Hey, buddy. How are ya feeling?” Steve stared blankly at Dustin.

“I, _what_?”

Steve felt like he was underwater.

The world was moving too slowly around him, everything was hazy and muffled and he didn’t know which way was up, which part of his body _hurt more_.

He _barely_ remembers being in those tunnels, the ‘dogs rushing them, getting tossed against the cave wall.

And then, _nothing_.

Nothing but blue eyes and rough hands.

And Dustin asked him something, but he was too far away, or maybe he was being _quiet_ for once in his life, but Steve just heard _ay-u are-a ee._

And then Billy said something, and Steve could pick up _osital_ before Billy was picking him up like he weighed _nothing_ and putting him _back_ in that car.

And Steve could _sort of_ make out the sound of the engine through his underwater brain.

But it didn’t sound _anything_ like it did that first day when Billy roared into the high school parking lot, didn’t even sound like when Max was driving earlier.

And Billy fucking _knew_ something was _wrong_.

Every time he spoke, Steve didn’t acknowledge him. And he would chalk it up to Steve just fucking _hating_ him, but he figured he’d get _some_ kind of response, even if it _was_ just a glare.

He took him to the emergency room, helping him out of the car.

“My friend hit his head. He’s bleeding and he’s really spaced out.”

-

Steve let the nurses and the doctors examine him.

He felt like he was only going deeper underwater.

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t hear you.”

He couldn’t even hear his own voice.

The nurse’s smile slid _right_ off her face.

And then there was _another_ doctor, and he was wheeled into a new room, and had to lay _very still_ in a large cream-colored tube.

-

“Harrington?”

Billy hadn’t been allowed to accompany Steve back. No familial relation, and all that.

But he was getting regular updates as they performed new tests.

Last he heard, Steve was being taken for a scan, which Billy didn’t like the sound of.

“Our imaging has presented us with the cause of his loss of hearing. It appears that-”

“Sorry, loss of _hearing_?” And it made sense, it _really did_ , but it also sent a fucking _chill_ down Billy’s spine. Moreso than the _unexplained animal bite_ that was oozing blood and puss from Steve’s leg.

“Yes, it appears Mr. Harrington has suffered a severe enough concussion we have classified it as a traumatic brain injury. Due to the location of the blow, his auditory processing has been affected. We believe he has lost approximately 90% of his hearing.”

“But this is like, just temporary, right? He’ll be fine?”

“It’s rare to lose hearing due to damage to the brainstem, so, unfortunately, we don’t know.”

“You don’t, you don’t _know_? He could be fucking deaf _forever_ , and you don’t _know_?” She gave him an unimpressed look, stared him down until he deflated, mumbled a _sorry_.

“Look, his injury is uncommon, not unprecedented. We hope for a full recovery, but at this point, it’s unlikely.” She gave him a half smile as he thanked her, and turned on her heel.

-

They gave Steve a notepad.

He didn’t like talking.

Felt like he sounded stupid.

Couldn’t hear himself to know otherwise.

And of course, he didn’t know sign language. Never had put much thought into learning it.

The nurses would give him pitying smiles, would write down their questions for him. They mostly kept to yes or no’s, allowing him to nod or shake his head.

_Does it still hurt? Has your hearing improved? Do you need more pain killers?_

He slept through the rest of the night, but he chalks that up to the morphine they pumped him with, the adrenaline draining from his body.

The next morning he woke up to a sweet-looking nurse, writing him a note that he had visitors, and he was welcome to tell them _no_.

He sighed, and nodded, giving a vague _come in_ gesture.

It was Joyce and Hop.

And Steve realized he was _relieved_ the kids weren’t there.

Joyce scribbled something on his pad.

_They told us everything. I’m so sorry, Honey._

And Steve started crying. Started _sobbing_ , because Joyce’s hugs were warm but her soft voice was _gone_.

-

Billy had never left the emergency room.

He had curled in one of the uncomfortable chairs, and dozed off until morning, when the Police Chief rolled in with the gaggle of kids and a short woman that gave him a shockingly tight hug, and thanked him for taking care of Steve.

“He’s deaf.” Billy’s throat felt raw. “They told me last night. Scanned his brain and the injury was _real bad_. They don’t know if he’ll ever hear again.”

“But they, there’s _nothing_ they can do?” Dustin was pale.

“Not really. They said, it’s _rare_ for _how_ he was injured to result in hearing loss, so they just don’t _know_.”

The chief took that woman back to see Steve, told the kids they didn’t know if he was up for visitors just yet.

Dustin had an odd look on his face.

He set his jaw, rolled his shoulders back, planted himself in front of Billy.

“Take me to the library.” Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Not a chance.”

“Take me to the _library_.”

“Kid, _no_.”

“Yes! I need to do research! If I learn sign language, I can help Steve so we can communicate!” Lucas stood behind him.

“Take us to the library.” When Maxine stood as well, Billy sighed.

“ _Fine_. Get in the car.”

-

Apparently Nancy and Jonathan broke into his house.

Nancy still remembered where he kept the spare key.

She had an odd look on her face as she passed Steve some sweats, a clean shirt. Jonathan scribbled a note and gestured to the bag he placed on one of the chairs.

_We brought more clothes, didn’t know how long you’re staying_.

He didn’t know either.

He told them _thanks_. One word was easy enough, and he’s pretty sure he saw Nancy’s eyes go a little teary at the sound of his voice.

-

Billy ushered the kids into the building, going over to chat with the librarian.

He had spent a decent amount of time here since moving to Hawkins. They had a decent selection, and plenty of the classics he liked to read.

He was too tired to flirt, but kept polite conversation as the kids rushed around.

“We need all the books you have on American Sign Language, deafness, and anything else on the subject.” She gave Dustin a pointed look.

“Mr. Henderson, you have _five books_ checked out, as well as five you _stole_ -”

“I’ll bring those _back_. This is _urgent_.” Billy put on his _best_ tragic look.

“Marissa, the kid’s _best friend_ has a, well he’s just gone _deaf_. Had a _terrible_ accident. They just wanna _be there_ for him, you know?” She looked at him. Her resolve was slipping. “You know, use my card for ‘em. You _know_ I’m reliable.”

He checked out very few books, opted to read them in the library instead.

She sighed.

“I’ll show you what we’ve got.” And she grumbled all the way to the stack.

-

Steve was staring out the window when he received a note about more visitors.

He _knew_ he’d have to face the kids at some point, he was just hoping to put it _off_.

He smiled as warmly as he _could_ when they came in, his eyes going wide when Billy trailed in behind them.

He looked like _shit_.

Dustin scribbled something on the notepad.

_Billy took us to the library and we got books on sign language and we’re all going to learn together so that we can all still communicate._

He wrote like he talked, run-on sentences with rushed, sloppy, handwriting.

Everyone was staring at him weirdly, and he realized he had laughed. He took notepad scribbling on it quickly.

_Thank you, guys. Means a lot._ Dustin smiled at him, nodding. He cast a glance over to Billy, leaning against the wall, staring out the window. Dustin took the pad.

_He hasn’t left since he brought you here he slept out in the waiting room and took us to the library to get all the books AND let us check them out on his library card._

Steve nodded, clearing his throat. Billy’s jaw tightened at the sound.

“Billy.” His head whipped around, his eyes wide at Steve’s voice. _Not too loud._ He held up what Dustin had written down. “Thank you.” Billy just nodded at him.

-

The kids were picked up one by one, giving Steve tight hugs before they left.

Until it was Max asleep in a chair, Billy sitting in the other.

Steve watched as Billy took off his jacket, draping it over Max like a blanket.

He gave Steve a tight smile. Steve picked up the pad.

_Why have you stayed? You didn’t have to_.

Billy shrugged. _Worried about you_.

Steve flushed.

_I’m okay_.

Billy gave him a _look_.

_Well, I will be._ Billy gave him a little half-smile. _You really took them to the library?_

_The little mouthy one bullied me into it._

Steve laughed. Billy tried to stifle his own smile.

_Love the image of Dustin bullying you into doing something_.

_Yeah well, it was humiliating._ Steve smiled at him again.

_So, are you learning sign language too?_

_Just the important shit. Princess, Pretty Boy, pain in my ass. The three P’s._ Steve laughed again.

_Right. Important shit. Remind me to learn asshole and piece of trash._

Steve had never really taken much notice to the way Billy laughed. But now that he couldn’t hear it, he studied Billy’s face. His eyes scrunched up, and had his teeth _always_ been that white, and that _straight_? His Adam’s apple bobbed when he laughed and Steve didn’t even think, reached out and pressed his fingers softly against his throat, his palm flat on his chest.

Billy went still. Steve recoiled.

_Sorry. Wanted to see if I could feel your laugh._ Billy smiled sheepishly at him, taking his hand and bringing it back to his throat.

Steve could feel the vibrations in his throat, the way the air made his neck shift, his Adam’s apple moving.

He didn’t know what Billy was saying, just liked the way his lips moved, the way he could _feel_ the words in his fingertips.

-

Steve’s face was soft as Billy spoke, his eyes big, his fingers soft against Billy’s throat.

“I guess I can say this now. Since you’re not ever gonna _hear_ me say it, but I’m _sorry_. I’m sorry for everything I said to you, _did_ to you. You just, you scare the _shit_ outta me, Pretty Boy. I’m not, not _allowed_ to feel this way about you. About, about _any boy_. Neil’s made that _really_ fucking clear. But I saw you, and I wanted to be _near_ you, to hear you laugh, be the, the _cause_ of all your damn smiles, and I’ve made you laugh _twice_ today. And that’s the best damn feelin’ in the world.”

Steve’s eyes flicked up to his face when he couldn’t feel words anymore, and those soft fingers retreated again.

Steve took the notepad.

Billy liked his handwriting.

_I like the way it feels when you talk._ He smiled all bright and Steve Harrington pretty. _Never thought about feeling someone speaking like that before_. And then Billy’s heart sank. _What did you say_?

_Talkin’ shit on you._

_That’s rude. I’m a deaf person now. That’s bigamy._

_I’m going to assume you meant bigotry_. Steve flushed.

_Yeah, whatever._ Steve was all huffy. It was _adorable_.

_Sorry, I’ll only talk shit in sign once we all earn it_.

_Thank you. I appreciate it_. Steve reached out, slapping playfully at Billy’s chest. Billy had the overwhelming urge to take his hand, kiss his knuckles.

He was too scared.

_When do you get out of here? I got an idea_.

-

Billy was there to pick him and take him home.

Steve had been in the hospital for over two weeks, as they wanted to monitor the injury.

He had _completely_ lost his hearing, and had given up hope of it returning.

But Billy had been by every day, usually bringing Dustin and some of the library books, and they had all mastered the sign language alphabet, and had all learned a few words.

Steve had a few bags of things people had brought to him, everything fitting nicely in the trunk of the Camaro.

Billy had offered to drive him own, wanted to see something.

He made a beeline to the quarry, finding a spot overlooking the water.

He took the pad from Steve’s lap, writing _I have an idea, tell me when you can feel it_.

He rifled through the cardboard box in the backseat, holding up the tape for Steve to see.

It was KISS, Dynasty.

Steve made a face.

Billy rolled his eyes, pushing the tape in. He turned up the bass, cranking the volume.

The first song, _I Was Made For Lovin’ You_ , had one of Billy’s _favorite_ bass lines _ever_.

He turned up the bass some more, until his speakers sounded like _shit_ , the song completely distorted.

But Steve’s eyes were _wide_ , his hand on his chest. Billy stole the pad.

_At concerts, sometimes you can feel the bass in your body. I thought that might work for you. Can still listen to music. I got a lot of bass heavy stuff_.

Steve’s bottom lip trembled.

He sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

Billy doesn’t know what he had done _wrong_ , if maybe it was insensitive, this whole music thing.

He went to turn down the music, but Steve grabbed his wrist. He took the notepad.

_Thank you, Billy. You’re really nice. Not listening to music anymore was really making me sad. This was a good idea._

Steve smiled at him, his eyes still wide and gooey wet.

Billy didn’t think about it.

Just put one hand on the back of Steve’s neck, and pulled him forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Steve was stiff against him, and Billy was about to pull back, scribble an apology on the pad, put then Steve sighed, and melted against Billy.

They pulled away from one another, and Steve was biting his lip, made Billy kiss him again.

_Been wanting to do that for a while_. Billy had tossed the pad onto his lap. Steve scoffed at it.

_Why didn’t you?_

_Too scared._ Steve just looked at him. The song clicked to the next, the steady kick drum of _2,000 Man_ made Steve’s hand flutter back to his chest. _You like this one?_

_This album is good. Now that I can’t actually hear it_. Billy shoved him. Steve huffed a little laugh.

_Dick_.


End file.
